Bingo.
"But Quinn." It was Daphne, looking aggrieved.
"You told me to meet you tomorrow." She trembled her chin.
Quinn stared at her, and for once, Rashel could read his face easily. He was thinking that anybody that
stupid deserved it.
"Well, you can both come," he said expansively. "Why not? The more the merrier."
He walked away laughing and laughing.
Rashel watched him go, resisting an impulse to shake her head. She'd done it; she'd passed the last test
and been chosen. So why was her heart still pounding?
She glanced out of the side of her eye at Daphne. "Well, I don't know about anybody else, but I've had
enough excitement for tonight." She went to get her coat, with the rest of Quinn's coterie glaring jealously
after her.
She had one enjoyable experience on the way out. Ivan, still slouching, tried to stop her at the door.
"Shelly, hey. I thought we were going to get to know each other better."
Rashel didn't need him anymore; she had her invitation. "I'd rather get to know a head louse," she said in
her sweet chatty voice, and she stepped on his foot hard with her high heel.
In the car, she waited a full twenty minutes, watching the front of the club, before Daphne joined her.
"Sorry, but I didn't want anybody to think we were leaving together."
"You did a great job," Rashel said, driving away. "You even managed to get both of us invited to meet
Quinn together-that was dangerous, but it worked. The only thing that surprised me is that he invited us in
front of everybody. Is that how he did it before?"
"No. Not at all. Last time, he sort of whispered it to me when nobody was around. But, you know,
nothing was normal tonight. I mean, he usually asks new girls questions-I guess to figure out if they have
families who'll miss them. And he isn't usually that-that..."
"Manic?"
"Yeah. I wonder what's going on with him?"
Rashel pressed her lips together and stared straight ahead through the windshield.
"You sure you want to go through with this?"
It was Sunday night and they were nearing the parking lot of the Crypt.
"I've told you and told you," Daphne said. "I'm ready. I can do it."
"Okay. But, listen, if there's any trouble, I want you to run. Run away from the club and don't look back
for me. All right?"
Daphne nodded. At Rashel's suggestion, she was wearing something more sensible tonight: black pants
heavy enough to provide some warmth, a dark sweater, and shoes she could run in. Rashel was dressed
the same way, except that she was wearing high boots. The knife was in one.
"You go first," Rashel said, parking a street away from the club. "I'll come in a minute."
She watched Daphne walk away, hoping she wasn't going to get this little blond bunny killed.
She herself was the danger. Quinn was going to use mind control on them to get them to go to the
warehouse quietly. And Rashel wasn't sure what would happen when he did it.
Just don't let him touch you, she told herself. You can carry it off as long as he doesn't touch you.
Five minutes later, she started toward the Crypt.
Quinn was in the dark parking lot, standing by a silvery-gray Lexus. As Rashel reached the car, she saw
the pale blob of Daphne's face through the window.
"I almost thought you weren't coming." There was now a sort of savagery mixed in with Quinn's lunatic
good humor. As if he was angry she wasn't smart enough to save herself.
"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Rashel kept her eyes on the car. She wanted to get this over
with. "Are we going somewhere?"
There was that tiny hesitation that seemed to come every time she spoke to him, as if it were taking him
a minute to focus. Or as if he were trying to figure something out, she thought nervously.
Then he answered smoothly, "Oh, right, get in."
Rashel got in. She glanced once at Daphne in the back seat. Daphne said, "What's up?" in a chirpy voice
laced with feminine rivalry.
Good girl.
Quinn was getting in the driver's side. Once the door was shut, he turned the engine on to run the heater.
The windows immediately began to fog.
Rashel sat in a state of continuing mind, ready for the unexpected at any moment.
Only the unexpected didn't come. Nothing came. Quinn was just sitting there in the driver's seat.
Watching her.
With a sudden void in her stomach that threatened her zanshin, Rashel realized that it was too dark. Too
familiar. They were sitting here together in silence, so close, visible to each other only in silhouette, just as
they had in the cellar. She could almost feel Quinn's confusion as he tried to figure out what was
bothering him.
And Rashel was afraid to say anything, afraid that her chirpiest voice wouldn't be a good-enough
disguise. The horrible feeling of connection was mounting, like some giant green wave looming over them
both. In a moment it would break, and Quinn would say, "I know you," and switch on the light to see the
face without the veil.
Rashel's fingers edged toward her knife.
Then, through the electric buzzing in her ears, she heard Daphne say, "You know, I just love this car. I
bet it goes really fast, too. This is all so exciting-I'm just so glad I got here this time. Not like last week."
She went on, blathering easily, while Rashel sank back lightheaded with relief. The connection was
broken; Quinn was now looking at his instrument
panel as if trying to escape the chatter. And now Daphne was talking about how exciting it was to ride in